


Fight Pain With More Pain

by Sohotthateveryonedied



Series: Whumptober 2019 [23]
Category: Batman (Comics)
Genre: Angst, Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Prompt: Secret injury, References to Depression, Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-24
Updated: 2019-10-24
Packaged: 2021-01-02 16:02:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21164333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sohotthateveryonedied/pseuds/Sohotthateveryonedied
Summary: “What’s that?” Dick asks one afternoon. He and Tim are watching/not watching some trashy reality show. Tim’s finishing up a thesis for one of the college courses he’s been taking online—trying to appease some of the higher-ups at Wayne Enterprises who treat him like a teenage screw-up rather than their literal boss.“What’s what?” he replies without looking away from the screen.“On your arm.”





	Fight Pain With More Pain

**Author's Note:**

> Day 24: Secret Injury
> 
> Title is taken from Freeze Your Brain from the Heathers soundtrack. I think that's gonna be a thing I do from now on; stealing titles from song lyrics. It gives me an excuse to blab about the music I like, and also it enables my laziness.

He was careless. _ So _ careless.    
  
Tim’s spent so much time with the Titans these past few weeks that he grew used to the dynamic—to being surrounded by people  _ without  _ bat senses. He let himself grow used to wearing thick bracelets and trusting that it would be enough.    
  
Because his friends don’t track his every move. His friends don’t analyze him like he’s a puzzle. His friends don’t notice what he doesn’t want them to.    
  
His family does.    
  
“What’s that?” Dick asks one afternoon. He and Tim are watching/not watching some trashy reality show. Tim’s finishing up a thesis for one of the college courses he’s been taking online—trying to appease some of the higher-ups at Wayne Enterprises who treat him like a teenage screw-up rather than their literal boss.    
  
“What’s what?” he replies without looking away from the screen.    
  
“On your arm.”   
  
Tim’s typing fingers still. His blood runs cold, the implication sinking in as he realizes his fatal mistake.  _ Stupid, stupid, stupid.  _ Because he’s tired. He’s ragged and strung out and plowing through one responsibility after the other and he  _ forgot.  _   
  
He  _ forgot  _ that he had something to hide from a family who sees too much, and so he didn’t even notice his sleeve had ridden up until it was too late.  _ Careless. Absolutely careless.  _   
  
He tugs the sleeve back down. “It’s nothing.”   
  
The marks are out of sight, but Dick’s gaze is still fixed on Tim’s wrist. His eyes are narrowed, but it’s in contemplation more than anger. It’s the only reason Tim clings to a sliver of hope that he might let it go. He might assume it was an old one. He might let him go.    
  
He doesn’t.    
  
“I thought you said you stopped,” Dick says, sitting up straighter.    
  
Tim’s shoulders hunch. He refuses to look at Dick. “I did.”    
  
“Then why are there new cuts?”    
  
“It’s nothing.” He’s twitchy. Nervous. Tries not to show it, but he’s not even  _ remotely _ prepared for this conversation. Every instinct demands that he run and run and run until he makes it back to five minutes ago when things were okay.    
  
“Didn’t look like nothing.”   
  
“They were old ones, okay?”    
  
Dick’s mouth twists, and Tim feels like an insect under a magnifying glass. “Can I see?”   
  
“No.”   
  
“You know that gives it away, right?”    
  
Tim looks up from his laptop for the first time. “I will give you one  _ hundred _ dollars if you pretend this conversation never happened.” It’s a lifeline. It’s a floatation device. It’s desperation.    
  
“You know I can’t,” Dick says. And before Tim can decide between fight or flight Dick’s quickly but gently taking his wrist and pushing up the sleeve.    
  
Since the others first found out, Tim’s given up on bothering to hide the scars. It’s not like covering up the evidence will magically erase them from everyone’s minds. Yeah, it’s uncomfortable when Cass’ eyes linger half a second too long or Jason not-so-subtly looks him over to make sure there aren’t any new ones, but the act of caring takes an amount of energy Tim Drake no longer possesses.    
  
But he slipped up this time.    
  
_ Careless.  _   
  
Dick’s eyes widen as they rake the skin on Tim’s wrist. There which lay layers of white scars—years old and fading—but there are also new ones. New ones nobody was supposed to see. The half-dozen scabbed-over lines offset his past mistakes with fresh, new slip-ups.    
  
Dick runs his thumb over one, and Tim loathes the fact that he looks  _ sad.  _ He’s not furious or disappointed or anything that would be a million times better. As if Tim did this to hurt him personally.    
  
“When?” he asks.    
  
“Three days ago,” Tim says quietly. Lying is pointless. Tim knows the routine by now.    
  
Dick nods, but follows up with nothing. He releases Tim’s wrist and instead takes his hand. “All right, let’s go.”    
  
“Where?” He doesn’t struggle as Dick pulls him up from the couch and starts leading him upstairs. He’s just...tired. He’s too tired for this. The panic has faded by now into smooth, uncracked apathy.    
  
“To talk.”    
  
Tim sighs. “Do we have to?”    
  
“Yep.”   
  
Dick takes him to his own room where nobody will bother them. He sits Tim on the bed before pulling up a chair across from him. He folds his hands in his lap and sends what he must think is a comforting smile; as if that will somehow make any of this easier.    
  
“So,” he says. “Tell me what happened.”    
  
Tim’s lip catches between his teeth. “It’s nothing you need to be worried about. One-time thing.”    
  
“Good to hear. I would still like to know the full story, though.”    
  
“What difference does it make?”   
  
“Tell me and we’ll find out.”   
  
Tim rolls his eyes. “It’s no big deal. Relapses happen. It was only one time and I  _ don’t  _ plan on doing it again.”   
  
“That’s good,” Dick says patiently. “What triggered it this time?”    
  
Tim only barely keeps from rolling his eyes again. “My brain was being an asshole because I forgot to take my meds that day, and I screwed up. It was an accident.”    
  
“I thought things were getting better?”    
  
“They were.  _ Are.  _ It was honestly just one day.” A really sucky day. A day filled with frustration and anxiety and pain and there was no  _ reason  _ for it. There was no logic. Tim wasn’t even aware something was wrong until he was locking the door to his bedroom and taking out a spare birdarang, just needing to  _ breathe  _ again _ .  _   
  
“I was stressed out over a case,” he continues, hands locked together in his lap. “And the pressure kept building and building until I got too low to come up for air, and I just...needed to make it better.”   
  
“And hurting yourself makes it better?”   
  
“No. Maybe. I don’t know.”    
  
“Then  _ talk _ to me about it, bud. Trust me, I do the same thing with Bruce every time he and Selina break up. Talking’s good, believe it or not. If you keep all that tangly stuff inside it’s going to rot your brain.” He taps his temple.    
  
“Oh my god,” Tim says, falling back on the bed. “You’re taking this way too seriously.”   
  
“Or maybe you’re not taking it seriously enough.”   
  
“Jesus Christ, it’s not like I’m going to off myself tomorrow, Dick. Do I regret slipping up? Yes. Which is  _ why  _ I’m not going to do it again. If you’re really so worried then feel free to take away all my scissors again. Whatever makes you feel better.”    
  
“I’m not going to do that because I trust you,” Dick says. “Just remember that I’m here for you, all right?  _ Call  _ me next time you feel like doing something dangerous. Don’t go closing yourself off again.”   
  
“Wasn’t planning on it.”    
  


**Author's Note:**

> Terrible ending, I know. The idea train was cruising at terminal velocity for the first half of this fic and then promptly crashed into a tree, killing thousands. 
> 
> [Feel free to mosey on down to my Tumblr!](http://sohotthateveryonedied.tumblr.com/)


End file.
